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Plastic Dancing

If you were at The Krazyhouse, Liverpool on Saturday night, particularly if you were mixing it on K1, then you might remember me as the one looking like a banana plant gently wafting in the breeze in the middle of the floor. I am sorry for looking like an inanimate lump of plasticine.

I am a lover of music, but it doesn’t really inspire me to move parts of my body. I learned on Saturday night that that makes me strange. For the most part, the music that filled the room was of various metal-based genres, which at the very least warrants some head-banging. Other genres of music require more gentile body movements (like line-dancing, for instance). I meet all types of music with the same whimsical nodding of the head, a gentle tapping of the foot, and occasionally staring at the ceiling to appreciate where I am and what I am listening to.

That does, however, mean it appears I am bored and dislike the music. That is not the case. But it does make me look a right wally. But I don’t care too much about looking a twit (just as well, really). The important thing was seeing my friends again, and I am hugely grateful for that short time.